


Packing Boxes

by JegElskerDigJo



Series: Familien [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27911866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JegElskerDigJo/pseuds/JegElskerDigJo
Summary: Sweden and Ladonia pack some boxes.
Relationships: Sweden & Ladonia
Series: Familien [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044819
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Packing Boxes

They were moving again, and Ladonia was sick of it.

The boy poked a box with the toe of his shoe, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Sve, what’s this one?”

Sweden looked up from the box he was putting bubble-wrapped candlesticks in to look at the object of Ladonia’s concern. “Those are for Norway and Denmark.”

“Then why do you have them?”

“I keep forgetting to give that stuff to them.”

“How long have you had these? They look very old. Dusty, too. You must have kept these around for quite a while now.”

“Don’t know.”

“Have you bubble-wrapped them yet?”

“No.”

“Can I?”

Sweden did not answer for a moment. “I guess.” He went back to his work.

Ladonia plopped down onto the ever-clean carpet of Sweden’s living room, excitedly grabbing a book from the box. The binding looked old and the leather worn. To Ladonia, it was cool for a number of reasons, the most prominent of those being that he probably wasn’t supposed to read it.

“What’s this?” Ladonia asked, holding up the book so Sweden could see it.

“A book.”

Ladonia huffed at Sweden’s ever-terrible descriptions. “Mister Norway or Uncle Denmark’s?”

“Norway’s. I think it’s just poems.”

“Oh.” The boy flipped open the book to see it was written in Old Norse. A shame--he could only read English, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Finnish, German and French. Ladonia tossed the book aside carelessly, and pulled out a rock. “What about this?”

“I threw that at Denmark’s head back in ‘26.”

“Nineteen twenty-six?”

“Ten twenty-six.”

“You’re old.”

Sweden didn’t respond, just hummed a song that Ladonia recognized but couldn’t quite place. The younger wanted to ask why he’d kept a rock he threw at Uncle Denmark, but figured it would be pretty useless to bother.

A shiny jewel plated in a necklace caught his eye, and Ladonia reached for it. The blue gem felt smooth in his hands. Silver caught the light from the ceiling of the spacious living room; Ladonia followed this chain down to the necklace’s clasp--rusted shut, as far as he could tell.

“Sve?”

“No more questions.”

Ladonia felt his cheeks get hot. It wasn’t fair that Sweden always did this, made him angry and embarrassed for just talking.

“You like Sealand more than me.”

“What?”

“You do. You like him more, and he only lives here part of the year.”

“Why do you think that?”

Ladonia stiffened. He hadn’t expected this question. “Whenever Sealand asks a bunch of questions, or breaks something, or cries, you never think he’s annoying.”

Sweden frowned. “You aren’t annoying.”

“You don’t talk to me! And you’re always telling me to be quiet. And you always are nicer to Sealand.” Ladonia huffed, and stood up, dropping the necklace onto the carpeted floor. “I’m leaving!”

He only made it to the door when Sweden spoke. “Come back.”

Ladonia crossed his arms and spun around to face the man, before looking down at the ground and feeling a bit embarrassed. “Do I . . . have to?”

“Yes. Come here.”

Ladonia moved to sit next to Sweden on the couch. The Swede had put down the bubble wrap, and now seemed completely focused on the situation at hand. “I’m sorry you don’t think I treat you the same way I treat Sealand.”

The boy sighed, and folded his legs underneath him. “Well, you’re just . . . harsher on me, I guess.”

Sweden looked away for a moment. “I guess I am.”

“But why? I don’t think he’s better than me.”

The older man almost seemed to smile at that. “No, that’s not the case. I regard you both the same.” He studied the back of his hand for a few moments.

Ladonia waited as patiently as he could. Sweden often needed time to collect his thoughts before he spoke, and the boy was determined to know the truth.

“Sealand is different from you and me.”

Who would compare Sweden to Ladonia? The boy snorted at the comment.

“Make whatever noises you like. We’re more similar than you think. I used to fight with my brother just the way you do with Sealand.” Sweden pushed up his glasses. “Well, not  _ just _ like that.”

“Sealand and I aren’t--”

“Hush, Ladonia.”

Ladonia sighed and dramatically closed his eyes and leaned back.”So you scold me more because I’m more like you?”

“Something like that,” said Sweden. More silence. “I don’t want you getting hurt by your own temper.”

Ladonia had heard from everyone he’d ever met that he was hot-headed, or rude, or a brat. But this was different. Someone, this time, was worried about him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you to make choices you’ll regret when you’re older because nobody helped you when you were younger. I want to help you. But,” Sweden said, “I’m too harsh sometimes.”

The boy cringed at the nickname, but asked the question on his mind. “So . . . you don’t like Sealand better?”

“I don’t see as much of myself in Sealand, but I love the two of you equally.”

“Are you sure you don’t love me a little more?”

“Ladonia . . .”

“Yeah, yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> A guest reviewer on FanFiction wanted to know what Ladonia’s nickname was. I’d forgotten to go back and add it while writing the story. I was strongly considering the nickname “Lucky,” partially for alliterative purposes and partially because I could actually see Sweden using that. Thanks for asking about it. Totally on me for not including it, and feel free to ask about this kind of stuff in the future.
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
